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Monday, 4 August 2008

ASTRANGE KNIGHT rides his rocking horse steed over uncharted territories, only to find that after travelling for miles and battling many Terrors, he is in fact in the very same place where he started. (Such is the dilemma with rocking horse steeds, as you might imagine) ... Nevertheless he holds his sword forth and his shield out, as if protecting himself from the turnings of time.

Here is the third Once Upon O'Clock ... a Russian Icon inspired sword clock for Yoli. This one is made with a different piece of tree from the last two. The wood is cut from a section where the trunk was beginning to divide into two... and you can see the rough split running down the front leg of the horse. And from the side of the slice of wood, I found a tiny spike growing, the beginnings of a branch I think ... and a perfect point for the sword. The bark is rather higgledy piggledy on this one, and still has moss growing in parts...

I am parceling this up today to send off into the wilds of Royal Mail ... it is so exciting that my clocks will be hanging on walls all over the world. I never expected that this venture would be so popular... had I known I would have got on with it all those years ago when I thought of it!!I think though, that I have this odd blog-world to thank for being able to connect with like-mined and interesting souls all over the planet. Hermits are unlikely to meet them too often otherwise :)

And speaking of blogs... my mum has written her second blog post! (only three months after the first one! ;) with some musings on artistic genes and example of my New Zealand Grandmother's paintings.

Happy days... I'm off to the wagon workshop with some coffee and nibbles to invigorate Tui's woodworking hands ... and maybe I'll lend a hand of my own, while the Fencer's clock hands tick away for the last time until they reach the shores of America ...

I can't wait to receive it. I am so in love with it. It is so beautiful and how imaginative of you to make him into a rocking horse. It will go into my children's room. My daughter is fascinated by knights and she has grown up around swords, so she is going to be over the moon with this. Thank you Rima.

Ahhhh, I am bewitched by your clocks! Just found your first one on TLCs blog - irresistably to me, a spinner - so nipped over here to see what you'd been up to. Clocks for professions is a delicious idea and I bet they'll only ever be in your shops for moments before they sell.If I ever get through to Glasgow and spot you I'll be sure to pull faces and say weird things before I stop to say a real hello!

I feel like I have entered a new world as I read your blog. Your work is inspiring as is your writing.I read your post about your parents and it is true what they say, "The fruit does not fall far from the tree"I am ever so happy that I can visit your magical world. I will be interested in seeing the progress on the Wagon. A woman who rescues a fly from the left over hot chocolate.....there is hope for the world :)

Wow Rima, this so neat! I love the photos you took of it too, from all angles. It really captures the earthiness and texture of the wood. Your art is stunning. So different and unique. I love the style you paint in!

About Me

Rima Staines is an artist using paint, wood, word, music, animation, clock-making, puppetry & story to attempt to build a gate through the hedge that grows along the boundary between this world & that. Her gate-building has been a lifelong pursuit, & she hopes to have perhaps propped aside even one spiked loop of bramble (leaving a chink just big enough for a mud-kneeling, trusting eye to glimpse the beauty there beyond), before she goes through herself.

Always stubborn about living the things that make her heart sing, Rima’s houses have a tendency to be wheeled. She currently dwells in an old cottage on top of a hill on the edge of Dartmoor with her beloved, Tom, & their big-hearted, ice-eyed lurcher, Macha.

Rima’s inspirations include the world & language of folktale; faces of people who pass her on the street; folk music & art of Old Europe & beyond; peasant & nomadic living; magics of every feather; wilderness & plant-lore; the margins of thought, experience, community & spirituality; & the beauty in otherness.

Crumbs fall from Rima’s threadbare coat pockets as she travels, & can be found collected here, where you may join the caravan.